Different Child
by 3iggy
Summary: You cannot keep secrets from Goblin Kings. They are good at finding hidden things.
1. A Different Child

_I cannot seem to focus on anything so I keep writing odd stories. Here, take one._

* * *

_Old friend come to me  
Everything I was, I used to be  
I went north, and I went East  
Following the footsteps of  
Some beautiful beast_\- Sea Wolf

* * *

My soul was scattered about me in a trillion tiny unrepairable pieces. It glittered like the stardust that it once was, it mocked me, and it was absolutely hateful. Hands that felt like they formerly were mine hovered over the shattered remains of me. I would have cried if I could.

The only thing that kept me from panicking was the fact that you need a soul to feel and mine was lying on the ground in front of me. Those phantom hands ghosted over the shards as my dull brain tried to figure out how to fix my current mess. Glue wouldn't help, neither would tape or staples. I was in serious trouble.

_Why are souls so fragile_? I thought numbly. _He must have known that this would happen._

Memories welled up behind my eyes and I let them overtake me. I'd been at a party, it was raining because it was spring and that was what always happened in spring. My dress was the color of rose-gold, it even sparkled…was it St. Patrick's day? I didn't remember.

I did remember that the dress had long sleeves which were rather ineffective considering its length prevented any type of real warmth. But, that is all non-sense, no one needs to know anything about the dress except that it was supposed to make me feel beautiful which it did until I ran into him around a dark corner on my way to the bus stop. I only felt vulnerable when he was around.

You see he and I were old acquaintances—he showed up from time to time to taunt and tease me. He couldn't or wouldn't do more than that, but his dark humor and slipshod smirks were enough to make any mortal girl uneasy, this one included.

That night in my rain soaked golden dress I stared at my old friend. He had the charisma of a rock-star, the heart of a knave, and the face of an angel. All I had were goosebumps and a slight stagger.

"Well met, Sarah." He drawled all lazy eyes and lazy voice.

I eyed him warily and tried not to think about being sick. Leaning against a brick wall that smelled a tiny bit like summer, I closed my eyes and willed him away.

"Your majesty," I sighed.

"You are too shiny to be so civil." I could hear the twitch of his sneer, it sounded very similar to hypocrisy.

"Maybe if you gave some advance warning of your impending presence…" I let the thought drift off. I was tired and I had certainly had too much to drink which wasn't like me. It was best to be fully cognizant with Jareth, his words were puzzles, his sentences snares…he spoke in riddles that could twine their way around your life and choke it out of you. One could never be too careful when in the presence of his silver tongue.

"Ungrateful girl," He scoffed.

"Selfish imp," I replied gruffly. The world was getting fuzzy. It was already dark and I'd probably missed the bus. "I realize that you believe your appearance to be an unaccountable honor which you reserve for select young women, namely myself, but—for a king—you are sorely lacking a basic understanding of certain courtesies."

"I'll bear that in mind." His voice was close to my ear. I felt his eyes travel across the side of my face.

"Sarah," his gloved hand pushed my heavy hair aside. He wasn't supposed to do that, I didn't allow it.

"Yes." I opened my eyes a little. The brick beneath my skin was no longer cold and wet, but warm and familiar. My eyes coasted over the dark interior of my apartment. Black dots shadowed the expanse of floor near the rain-spotted glass doors where the streetlight poured into the room. He was not far from me.

I hated when he entered my apartment. It wasn't big enough for him. The sight of him in the rough, industrial loft gave me the impression of a caged jungle cat. His owlish eyes reflected the small traces of light, deepening the resemblance.

"Please, leave." I muttered, not wanting to sound too childish.

"But, I've only just arrived."

I pushed away from the wall and wobbled to a chair. Removing my shoes was the first thing I had to do. After that task was complete I let my head drop toward my newly freed feet. Dark hair cascaded around my head, forming an impenetrable curtain.

"I cannot speak to you like this." Jareth growled lowly.

The king preferred a sharp-witted, razor-tongued Sarah Williams, though he would hardly admit to it. My dullness coupled with the ragdoll pose I'd assumed were infuriating him. I felt it in the air around me, another reason I disliked his person in my apartment. His moods bounced off the brick, steel, and glass like Ping-Pong balls—well aimed Ping-Pong balls considering they always managed to hit me.

"I've come to warn you Sarah." His ice cold voice slithered across the room, past my hair-curtain, and into my ears.

"Are you threatening me your majesty?" I straightened my back just enough to part my hair and allow me to stare at him.

"Why would I do that?"

And, he was gone. That was nearly seven months before my soul-crisis. I was sure that he knew back then that I was in trouble.

Part of my dulled mind anticipated his arrival. Surely, he would appear to smirk and sneer at my predicament. The separation of my soul from my body and its subsequent dismemberment was a perfect opportunity.

I almost wanted him there, maybe he could fix this mess. But, I couldn't call him. He came to me when the fancy struck him, he lost nothing in doing so, but I could not do as he did. I could not traverse into the other realms, into the land of spirits, not without him. And, I could not call him, it would cost me everything. Even though I named him friend, I did so knowing that he hunted me. Now I was weak and waiting. Reason was all I had, I needed the soul that was glittering on the floor around me. I needed to fear him, to remember that he wasn't what he seemed, to know better than to trust him. Reason, would tell me I had no other way, my heart—my soul, would find another.

"Oh, you've broken such a precious thing." Jareth tsked from across the room.

"I can't fix it," my dumb voice muttered.

"I'm impressed, truly. What were you doing that caused such colorful chaos?"

"Magic." I whispered.

"Reckless creature."

"I know." I couldn't speak as myself. I was hollow.

He circled around me appraisingly. "And, what were you trying to do."

My fingers gently caressed a simmering bit of soul and I felt a jolt travel up my arm. For a moment I felt something. "Move the stars." I giggled fictitiously.

His eyes danced. "I'm sure." He moved closer, examining the fragments of me, I would've felt embarrassed if I could.

"It's beautiful you know." He extended one of his graceful hands, long fingers extending toward the loose mosaic. He stopped short of touching it…me…and removed his leather glove.

My drained eyes could only watch in muted fascination as that perfect hand floated about my poor soul. Its colors shifted beneath him, I could almost hear it singing, begging to be remade.

His pupils dilated, like a cat's do in play. There was death in those eyes, or at the very least danger. Even as a shell of a person I could understand, and nearly fear the look on his face.

"You are able to fix it." I dared to lock gazes with him.

"You knew that already. You mean, will I fix it without you asking me to." Finally, the curl of his lips, uncovered his canine grin, his fangs matched the predatory glow in his eyes perfectly.

"I cannot ask you for anything." Reason relented a moment.

"You won't ask me, there is a difference child." He replaced his glove and moved away from me.

"Jareth." Reason was done waiting for me.

"Yes." The word was nearly a hiss.

"Will you help me?"

"Of course." He removed both gloves, tossing them carelessly upon my bed. I watched his agile movements in the mirror that leaned against the wall in front of me. I'd meant to hang it weeks ago. Candle flames flickered in the wake of him. My own empty eyes drilled into me, I hadn't changed position since it happened, since my soul shattered. It fell from me like crystal armor and I hadn't shifted an inch. Somehow, I knew that once those precious parts of me were brought back together and reunited with my body, they wouldn't be the same as they were before.

Silently, he crouched beside me, the faint smell of magic assaulting my nose. Jareth gently, painstakingly, coaxed and teased the shards together. It may have been hours or days as his fingers, his magic, pieced me back together again.

It hurt. Every newly reunited bit was painful. By the time he was finished, I was stretched out across the cold wooden floor, panting in agony. My sweat drenched clothes clung to me.

Jareth stood silently to the side, and every emotion that I associated with him rushed over me all at the same time. Fear, distrust, fascination, desire, they all melded together and I knew he could read them on my face.

Those eyes, the hungry ones, glared down at me. Normally, I would attempt to deflect that look, but he now knew me from the inside out. I could feel him yet, shifting through the pieces of me, discovering all of my secrets, dreams, and everything else a girl prefers to keep to herself.

"You've been keeping secrets my dear." He grinned.

"I think I will need to find some new ones." I attempted to sit up, to move away from his searching gaze. I was acutely aware of being in his debt.

"Now tell me what you've been up to." He was was deceptively sweet.

"You already know."

"Yes, but I want you to tell me."

I felt sick, and I didn't want to talk to him.


	2. Bits and Pieces

It weighs too much this time  
My hands are broken  
She'll disappear again  
Before we've spoken  
The night we took that year  
In Black Leaf Falls  
All of the trees were bare  
Next to the dance hall-Sea Wolf

* * *

Thoughts were coming together so much easier. I was whole again, but Jareth watched me as though he intended to pull me back apart. And, I was so sleepy. Once more, memories encroached upon the dusty corners of my consciousness.

_Alexander_.

Oh, if Jareth could be likened to a crescent moon haunting a sky full of stars, then Alexander was a solar eclipse. Whereas one played tricks with shadows, speaking in riddles—the other was blunt. Alexander was dark, and he didn't hide it, Jareth was still very much a mystery to me.

It was that semblance of honesty, that openly dark mien that dropped my walls and roped me in. I'd known that he was something like Jareth, they had that same "chills in the dark" effect on me. But, Jareth was my own personal poltergeist, Alexander wasn't after me at all, he wanted my Sisters.

Am I babbling? Sometimes I do that, there's too much junk in my head. Really, it's all junk.

The Sisters were a group of white witches that lived down the street from me. I met Sister Ann-Claire one late autumn evening at the grocery store. She sensed magic. Apparently, I either had my own special way with the elements before running Jareth's labyrinth, or I picked it up there. I don't know, no one knows, I just have a little magic of my own. It is only a trifle, but the Sisters welcomed me, they showed me some tricks, and now I've destroyed them.

Not me personally, but Alexander. I led him right to them. He used me to get to the Sisters, and now I had to get them back.

That's how I broke my soul. I was trying to find them, but I just didn't have that level of skill, of control. I was playing games that I didn't know the rules to once again, and Jareth had caught me red-handed, un-souled, and now I owed him. I wasn't sure how I was going to fix the mess. But, I wasn't going to plunge into a long narrative that he already knew the gist of.

I pulled my weary self from the floor and moved to the bed, collapsing belly down on the comforter. I'd never felt so sick in my life.

"You are still such a child." He growled from the corner.

"Forgive me, Ole Ancient One, for not satisfying your every whim. I am not at your beck and call you know." I knew that I sounded petulant. I know that you are thinking me a drama-queen who didn't learn anything all those years ago, but you're wrong. I was just really tired, and no one ever expects_ him_ to grow-up, to change, so I think that I can be forgiven the occasional tantrum.

Prowling like some sullen wolf, Jareth circled around the bed, once again in my line of view.

"You're going to feel like hell for a few days." He mentioned cheerfully, having switched moods once more.

I harrumphed, and came to my hands and knees in an attempt to crawl to the center of the bed—my sanctuary. Everything was dancing, my stomach felt like it was churning mortar. Goosebumps rippled up my arms and down my back. I just wanted to shrink into nothing, to not exist.

My eyes had shut themselves against the pain, but something urged them open. Suddenly, he was on the bed, his nose near my nose. I stopped breathing.

"You're not to touch me." I whispered, pain lacing my words, turning my command into a plea.

His head set itself to an angle, quickly, preternaturally. Those languid eyes focused on my face, he was seeing things I could not. I didn't like it.

Rocking back on my knees, I tried to distance myself from him, but he followed me, keeping his eyes level with mine, he didn't speak. That's what bothered me the most. Jareth loved to hear himself speak, he was rarely quiet. At that moment, he seemed more animal than human…or whatever it was that he is.

I felt ridiculous, fleeing from him across my own bed, but I did anyway, backing myself against the headboard in a defensive position that was animalistic in its own way. He was still there, in my face. I tried to calm down, but I could smell my own fear and weariness. I knew he could too.

"What are you doing?" I finally spat out.

"I'm not touching you." His sneer was sinister.

"I didn't ask what you weren't doing." I wanted to look away from his penetrating gaze, but I knew that I shouldn't, there was no telling what he'd do if I looked away.

"Right. I'm trying to decide whether or not to give you this bit back?" That gloved hand I knew so well hovered between our noses, displaying a green piece of my soul. It was no longer flat and jagged, but round and light, it danced about his hand like one of his crystals.

"Jareth." My words crashed like waves on a desolate shore. "What did you do?"

"This piece caught my eye, I thought I'd keep it." He smiled and shrugged.

Desperately I searched around myself, dinging around in the rafters of my mind, seeking out hidden places in my soul, tallying up hobbies, favorite books and coffee houses, even songs. I couldn't figure out what part of me he held in his hands. I didn't know what was missing. That was scary.

"You'll give yourself wrinkles if you continue to worry like that."

"This isn't funny, and it's not a game. What do you have?"

"My fee, dear girl, for fixing your little problem. You can rest easy, I'll take care of this, you don't need it anyway. I'm not entirely certain that it belonged to you at all."

I knew then what he held, what he hoped to keep from me. I sent my senses out like the Sisters had taught me, but nothing happened, I didn't feel anything, and I should have felt Jareth. His power should have drown me.

"My magic! You took my magic!" I moved as if to grab it from him. The plan was not well thought out, my magic disappeared and I found myself barreling into the Goblin King.

I was afraid for a moment that my sudden ambush would send us both toppling over, but he was steady, even while perched upon my bed as he was. I hit a solid mass that quickly seized my shoulders, halting my assault.

"I do need that!" I forgot about being sick and tired.

"Oh, do you want to try to kill yourself again? There are far less painful and tedious ways, darling." He tsked.

"You don't understand." I set my hands upon his chest and thought about whether or not I was willing to seduce him into giving it back. I wasn't even sure if he wanted _that_ from me exactly, but I was a desperate woman.

Before I could fully decide what I had to do, he was on the other side of the room, surveying me with his tilted stare once more. A wicked smile curved his lips as if he knew what I'd been considering.

"No, Sarah." He shook his head, laughter dancing in those haphazard eyes.

I knew he'd be gone in an instant, but I leapt from the bed and flung myself across the room. By the time I reached the balcony where he'd stood silhouetted in the twilight, Jareth was gone. The scent of magic and leather was the only thing left of him.

I collapsed where I stood, too miserable to do anything else. It was beginning to rain, but I didn't care. I slumped against the cold iron railing and sobbed until I fell asleep.


	3. Annabel Lee

Hehehehehe.

* * *

It was many and many a year ago,  
In a kingdom by the sea,  
That a maiden there lived whom you may know  
By the name of Annabel Lee;  
And this maiden she lived with no other thought  
Than to love and be loved by me.-E.A. Poe

* * *

You can bet that I found him. It took me months, but what are months to an immortal creature such as himself? They were hell for me.

Alright, I didn't actually "find" him. It was more a matter of drawing him out. I did it in a rather dramatic fashion as per Goblin King preferences. Perhaps, I should write a book, I could call it something classy like "Know Your Mythological Menace." I digress.

In order to encourage Jareth to reappear and hear me out, I devised a plan. First, I found the most disturbingly romantic dress that the vintage shop in town had to offer. It was nothing like the rose-gold number he had harassed me in before. No, this dress was everything a fae-king could wish for. The dress was white, lacy, and probably begotten during the gothic revival period. Tight translucent sleeves hugged my arms as the heavy lace folds cascaded down my legs. It was not quite as opulent as the princess puff dress he once dressed me in, a slight I'd yet to forgive him for, this dress was a woman's dress and probably more suited to his tastes than mine.

Once the dress was selected I bought several dozen candles from a trippy New Age shop, they smelt of bergamot and patchouli, but I liked the mystic affect. A crown of flowers and a two day trip up the New England coast later and I was set. The scene for my grand performance was a rocky cliff overlooking the sea. Slender trees perched atop the little outcropping lending it a wild and majestic feel.

Silently I lit the candles and watched as the sun began to sink into the arms of the ocean. I could smell salt on the breeze and nearly taste it with each inhale. That same breeze whipped my hair about me in a Byronic manner and set my candle flames to dancing. I stood for a while and watched the stars blink into life far above me in the heavens, the waves crashing beneath them. It was my favorite time of day.

With a resigned sigh, I pulled myself to my feet, nearly stumbling ungracefully upon the long train of the dress. I straightened my crown of flowers and nearly giggled hysterically. I hadn't noticed until that moment how closely I resembled my fifteen-year-old self, reciting poetry in a small town park. Oh, if only life could have stayed that simple.

Summoning all the drama that I could, I stepped into the ring of candlelight and turned to face the sea.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City, to take back the child that you have stolen. My will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great." I cast the words to the heavens, to the world of spirits. They meant nothing, and I knew that, but he would hear them. He would come. Jareth was nostalgic like that.

"You have no power over me." His elegant voice echoed around me.

I hid my smile well, the irony of his words was nearly too much for my self-composure. I already felt like a woman on the edge. The dress, and my sudden lapse of sanity reminded me strongly of a Ms. Havisham, I didn't want to be a Ms. Havisham, but I parroted her words nonetheless.

"You made your own snares. I never made them." I doubted that Jareth read much Dickens so the line was wasted on him.

"Yes, as do we all." Jareth leaned lazily against one of the slender trees—he stared past me, out over the horizon, the stars were reflected in his owlish eyes.

Silence reigned for a thousand winters, or so it seemed to me, before he spoke again.

"To what do I owe this charming reenactment?" His gaze moved slowly, teasingly, to my face making me suddenly aware of the dress clinging to my curves, outlining my body against the dim candlelight.

I decided to let him play the hero, although he made one hell of a villain, "I need you, Jareth."

Distrust flashed in those narrowed eyes, though the rest of his features remained at rest.

"Oh." His cruel mouth said.

I licked my lips, instantly worried about my new lack of caution; I did mention that I was desperate. In the space of a blink the king was calling my bluff. His body, a hitherto uncharted and forbidden territory, was invading my borders.

"How do you need me?" He whispered in his sing-song way, that cruel mouth dangerously close to my ear.

I tried not to panic, and nearly died of humiliation as I remembered his elegant hands—hands that were currently digging into my waist—ghosting over the shattered pieces of my soul on the bedroom floor. My face warmed as I recalled how those pieces had sang for him, beckoned him. Oh, he knew too much, my Pied Piper

"You have something that I want." I heard the layers of meaning in my own syllables. The response was too vague, perhaps I had picked that up from him somewhere along the way.

"Really?" A hand had moved to tilt my head back. I closed my eyes, not ready to look into his ancient gaze. "You must be truly desperate if you've abandoned your restrictions on physical contact. Aren't you going to remind me not to touch you?" I could feel his breathe on my neck.

"I have no power over you." It was amazing, and yet wildly terrifying, the effect those words rendered upon the king.

He didn't move quickly, which is what one would expect, instead he slowly…painstakingly…lowered his lips to my throat while his hand traveled up my neck to grip my hair. You see, I didn't realize that telling him that I had no power over him, effectively nullified my assertion that he had none over me. It is funny how those things work. But, I wouldn't find that out until later, and I wasn't terribly concerned about it in that moment.

Instead, I focused on my racing heart. My hands, which had somehow become trapped between his chest and mine, were moving against my will to settle on his shoulders. A hundred thousand things welled up in my mind in that instant.

Then his teeth found the underside of my jaw and his lips were on my lips and I forgot how to breathe. We were not supposed to kiss, but I didn't know how to stop it.


End file.
